


Tabula Rasa

by hello-reylux (She0l)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 2016 Reylux Tropesgiving Exchange, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Bathing/Washing, Cleaning, Dark, Dreams and Nightmares, Dubious Consent, Erections, F/M, Family, Force Bond, Gen, Is it consent if it happened once upon a dream, Kissing, Laundry, M/M, Millennium Falcon - Freeform, Morning Wood, Relationship(s), Romance, Sad, Secrets, Tragedy, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She0l/pseuds/hello-reylux
Summary: He asked them who they were, where he was, and how he got there. They were Rey and Ben Solo, this was the Millennium Falcon. They found him on a planet alone, they said, and did what they could to save him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liesmyth (l_cloudy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/l_cloudy/gifts).



> Edited after receiving some comments. Thank you so much!

This was the fifth night he’s woken up with a hard-on.

He grasped at the wisps of his dream. It left him with wash of peace, as if all the chaos in the galaxy had fallen into place, and someone had found him there.

He looked down at the area of the blanket tenting over his crotch and frowned. Didn’t it know he had more pressing matters to attend to?

He checked the time – it’s five twenty in the morning. There’s no point going back to bed if he only had forty minutes left before the sir and the lady needed their breakfast.

His hand wandered down his pants. His skin trembled at his own touch. _Not now_ , he told himself.

His fingertips traced a scar of eight letters forming three words high on his thigh, carved by a steady hand that knew what it was doing and why.

Then he got up for the bathroom, running a hand through his damp red hair.

 

In the belly of the Millennium Falcon, the very walls hummed with speed and energy and memories. Passed down from lords to smugglers to sons, each small scratch had a story to tell. It took him a week to memorize the maze by heart, and even now he suspected the freighter had secrets that she would never reveal to him.

The servant divided the laundry into dark and light. He made a chart that determined the optimum amount of water and length of time for each wash. He folded and fit each article of clothing into drawers like neat soldiers. After the laundry, he must dust the cockpit controls, which will take him thirty minutes. He was certain of one thing: the necessity for order, for rules, both public and personal.

He still found treasures over thirty years old, collecting dust in forgotten storage compartments. He even discovered the carcass of a palm-sized, monkey-like animal worth a few thousand credits, in a disused cupboard where it crawled to hide from the first Solo. Ben had it stuffed and sold.

Today, he found a box of eight gleaming wine goblets. Each stood a meter tall. The intricate gold and pearl designs suggested they would fetch a hefty price. Collectible items cost more in their original packaging so taking them out of the box was out of the question. He hefted two in his arms. He should show it to Rey or Solo. His footfalls echoed in the metal corridor. Must be careful with his step, or-

“Watch out!”

He had never heard a sound as heart-shattering as when the glass crashed on the floor. Then he realized his feet hovered above the ground.

“Are you alright, Fox?” Rey asked, holding a hand out towards him. The name did not suit him, but he couldn’t come up with a better one. She lowered her arm and he felt solid surface under his shoes.

“I… am sorry. I’ll clean this up.” Fox said. He never believed in apologies but this one was on him. He should not be making thoughtless mistakes like walking straight into a closed door. How could he have something so foolish, so careless? He’s taken every painstaking effort to ensure order in the Falcon and he forgot to open one kriffing door. Because of his misstep, two treasures lay ruined around his feet. How could he possibly make amends for this? He bowed, unable to meet her eyes, unable to show his face.

“Lady Rey, I don’t deserve tolerance for this blunder. I’ll spend double the time clearing the storage rooms. I’ve have everything ready for your inspection in two days, if you let me.” Never mind that he’ll cut his sleeping hours by half.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re just mugs. Are you alright? You look like you want to throw yourself out the window.”

Fox raised his head. His clenched fists relaxed by his side. He only knew two people in his life: Ben and Rey Solo. Rey had brown hair that she kept up in three loops, and a face both innocent and fierce.

“Yes. I am. Alright.”

“Good. You’re more important than this old trash.” She kicked the shards of glass for good measure and they clinked across the hallway, “You’re family to me, Fox. Don’t ever forget that. Oh, also, Ben and I agreed to save you the trouble of washing our underwear. From now on, we’ll do it ourselves.”

“That… is a relief. Thank you.”

“No problem at all.” The lady grinned.

He wondered how her cheek would feel against his finger. He forced himself to look away. With a broomstick, Fox swept up the mess into a dustpan. He emptied it into a compartment that, in turn, released it into the cold vacuum of space.

“Lady Rey, has there been any news about where I came from?” He asked. His earliest memory was of waking up on a bed aboard the Millennium Falcon, with the sir and lady staring at him. No one could tell him who he was and what had happened to him.

Rey could not meet his eyes.

“The planet we found you on has been deserted for centuries. No sign of life nor civilization. Someone brought you to that planet and left you there.”

“I see.” His grip tightened on the broomstick, “I must have had a family at some point, am I right?”

Rey’s eyes welled with pity, remembering what it was like to wait for a family who might or might never came back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault at all. You are doing everything in your capacity.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Rey, Uncle Luke sent us a hologram.” Sir Solo called. The tall, muscular heir of the Falcon had a deep gash across his face. Sometimes, Fox would catch a glimpse of scars under his collar or his sleeve. He was never without his saber or a smirk.

“Fox.” Solo greeted.

He greeted him in return. He never liked the way Solo looked at him.

The projector featured a hologram of a bearded man in a white cape holding up two fingers. Behind the man stood a giant statue holding a blazing torch. Fox studied the tourists taking photographs with it. Are these what people from other planets looked like? He caught sight of the opening greeting, ‘Ben Solo is so noble’.

“Oh. It’s an anagram of your name, Ben.” Rey laughed.

Fox blinked.

Solo huffed, “He probably just thought of that on the spot. He should stop sending these cheesy grams.”

“It fits you though, once the Republic realized what you had been trying to do in the First…” Her eyes darted to Fox, “… place, all along. I’m glad Uncle Luke’s enjoying himself. After being stuck on that island for years, I’d want to get out and see the galaxy too.”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing.” Sir Solo reasoned. “Explore new planets, seek new civilizations, boldly going where no one has gone before.”

“This honeymoon’s extended for six months already. Don't you want to settle down?”

“Do you?”

Solo drew her close to his chest and placed his hands around her waist, lifting her clothing just an inch.

Knowing what would come next, Fox turned to hurry down the corridor.

“I’m joking, Fox. You can come back.”

He glanced back at Solo and Rey, whose giggles stabbed at his heart. Fox balled a fist and gritted his teeth. He gave them a slight nod of his head, which was all he could muster for a submissive bow.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Fox, wait.”

Solo stepped out of the cockpit and jogged after him.

“Anything you need, _sir_?” Fox addressed him through clenched teeth.

Solo gave him a pained expression, as if there was so much he could not say.

“It’s a personal question, but let me ask - are you happy here?”

“Sir. As long as you both are satisfied, I am satisfied.”

Whether or not it was the answer that Solo was looking for, he did not care. All he wanted was to get away. He felt Solo studying him. He’s seen the man probe into the minds of other people for information, he might even be hearing his thoughts right now. _Please don’t inquire further,_ Fox thought with all his strength.

“One more thing, Fox. Call me Ben.”

It was a command, not a request.

“Thank you but I’d have to decline.”

“Do you always need to be so formal?”

Formality maintained order and distance. Formality remained a necessity.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable addressing you any other way… sir.”

“I see. Alright then. You may go.”

He felt Solo watching him walk away.

 

He woke up with a hard-on for the sixth night.

He floundered at the receding darkness that swept the dream of his memories, and it seeped past his fingers like water. As if someone who made him feel safe had bid him good bye or good night, and he didn’t want them to go. His breath misted into small white puffs before him.

He stripped and washed it all away with a shower. As the water ran down his face, his torso, his legs, his fingertips felt the raised scars over his thigh, three words made of eight letters:

I AM GREAT.

He only had to look down at the up-side down letters to read it. He was right-handed, and they were on his right thigh. They even matched his handwriting. Whoever wrote the letters must have been whoever Fox was before he became Fox.

He donned a crisp white collared shirt. He checked each corner for creases. His trousers were cut to just the right length. He tied an apron around his waist, like armor in the daily battle of a servant. He rearranged eight letters in his mind. _Great Aim. Image Art. Tiara Gem…_

He ate a quick loaf of bread alone.

It took him twenty minutes to complete his morning routine. Fox checked his schedule – his first chore was to make a morning meal for the sir and lady.

Instead, he found Solo in the kitchen.

“I’ll take over for breakfast.” Solo said. He had an array of ingredients in bowls set on the table. With just a glance, Fox knew he was making pancakes.

Pancakes were Rey’s favorite.

“Would you like assistance?” Fox asked.

“I have to do this by myself.”

“Would you like an apron?”

“No need.”

Didn’t he know he could get food on his shirt? And guess who would have to wash said shirt? At least he’s rolled his sleeves up his forearms. A dribble of batter dripped onto the pristine countertop that Fox spent an hour yesterday scrubbing. He fantasized strangling the man.

No, calm down, gather yourself, breathe. Besides, it’s _Solo’s_ countertop in _Solo’s_ ship, not his.

He turned to go.

Then – Solo grasped his arm. His fingers travelled down his forearm, his wrist, and his thumb thumbed brushed the back of Fox’s hand. The intimacy shocked his nerves. Solo knew how to touch him, gentle as a wisp of a dream.

Fox jerked his hand away and held his arm up between them.

“Er, I wanted to ask where the vanilla’s kept.” Solo said, aware that he had startled him.

“Alright.” Fox rubbed his wrist. He reached into a shelf and pulled out a small brown bottle.

“Thank you.” Solo said, “Hope these pancakes work on Rey better than Jedi mind tricks.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“A proposal.” He said, then laughed.

Of course. He’s seen Solo penetrate into the minds of others, even cause people to obey his will. What if he can do more?

“Sir, I’ve been waking up feeling strange, and I can’t remember my dreams. As if I didn’t have any.”

“Isn’t that normal?”

“Is it?” Fox would have no inkling of what happens to normal people on a normal basis.

Solo gave a noncommittal shrug and mixed the batter in a bowl, “I never remember any of my own, save for a few recurring nightmares.”

“I think my true name might be Armitage.”

Solo’s eyes widened. In the skip of a heartbeat he stopped mixing. Then he caught himself.

“You think so? Your memories coming back now? That’s great. Let’s keep it a surprise from Rey, alright?”

Fox thought it out of his place to ask, and his ‘Why?’ hung in the thick silence between them.

“So that when we tell her it’s an even bigger surprise. I’d have to call you Armi from now on, eh?”

Fox nodded, resolved to do as he was told, until he understood why Solo didn’t want Rey to know.

 

Fox heard shouts of the sir and lady arguing, muffled by the walls – followed by what sounded like, and was most probably, Solo’s proposal for Rey crashing into pieces on the floor. Fighting was a healthy part of every relationship, but with these two, objects sometimes flew across rooms – even _through_ rooms, and it was best not to stand in their paths when they did.

The furthest place from the couple’s bedchamber were the storage rooms. He planned to continue work there tomorrow, but in the interest of his safety, he needed to shift his schedule.

He implemented an efficient organization of the supplies storage. He placed the commonly-used supplies such as salt and sugar in reachable cabinets. The rarer ones, like towels, he placed at the back. When he finished, he stepped back and admired the neatness of each object, each container, in its rightful place. He sighed with satisfaction. He may not be able to bring peace to the galaxy, but he could bring order to these shelves.

He checked the time – it’s already been an hour. The couple should be done with their argument now. Enter the phase of cooling off, which meant avoiding conversations with either of them for the rest of the day. When great dogs fight, the small dog gets bitten if he’s not careful.

“Fox!” Rey called.

Fox saw Rey and thought a furious beast was stomping towards him. Just in time he stopped himself from throwing his arms up in defense. He could flee to the furthest corners of the galaxy, but these two Force warriors would find him wherever he hid.

“If you see Ben, don’t listen to him. Don’t follow him. Whatever he says, ignore it and walk away. Understand?”

Fox nodded, eyes wide and throat dry. He towered over her yet she could flatten him like a pancake.

The storm that was Lady Rey thundered off to the cockpit and Fox promised himself to avoid that area even if it gathered an inch of dust overnight. The furthest place from the cockpit was his own bedchamber, past the kitchen and the escape pods. Better weather the tempest where neither of the two could hear his thoughts.

“Armitage-!”

He swung around.

“-Hux!”

Hux. _Hux._

Why did the word catch his attention?

“Can’t even remember your true name, Hux?” Solo said. He stood halfway through one of the doors of an escape ship, reaching a hand out for him. His collar had a smear of blueberry jam.

“You’ve always known my name?”

“I know who you once were. If you trust me, come with me.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

“You’ll find out. Hurry, before she comes.”

He thought that Solo’s dark eyes reflected light very well, and they told him that Solo was not going to hurt him.

He took his hand.

 

The smaller ship – meant only for four people – swerved through space debris faster than the mammoth Falcon. The screen above showed the freighter speeding towards them like a comet. Ben Solo cursed. They veered to a sharp left. Hux felt the seatbelt tighten around his chest.

“Sir, did I-?”

“Get out of my head!” Solo yelled.

Hux looked at him as if Solo himself grew another head.

“Sorry, my _lovely_ wife-” Ben raised his voice as if she could hear them. “- found us with our Force Bond. You were saying?”

He had a vague notion that the Force Bond was something that kept them together, like constant telepathy. Hux gripped his arm rests and waited for the nausea to go away. It’s best to keep his mouth closed.

“Nothing. Just please let me live.”

The words ‘Incoming Transmission’ flashed on the screen. Lady Rey once Force-flung a chair through a window when Solo missed one of her calls.

“Don’t-!” Hux yelled. Ben smashed the reject button and sealed their death sentences.

“I was _just_ pleading for my life.” Hux said and sunk into his chair.

“I’m looking for a planet with survivable environment. Not that easy in a vast galaxy… how does planet Maharlika sound?”

“Exciting.” He’s a dead man anyway.

“Then I’m jumping into hyperspace. If we don’t want her to pick up our signal, we’ll make our landing just after we break through the atmosphere. Ready for a ride?”

Hux opened his mouth to protest – then they made such a sharp downturn dive that Hux’s stomach clenched. He tasted blood on his tongue.

As the green planet hurtled closer and closer and closer, Hux gritted his teeth and braced for impact.

 

Hux wondered when the spinning would stop, then realized the ship had already landed. His sense of balance tried to catch up. If it hadn’t been for his seatbelt he’d have flown through the windshield.

“Ren.” Solo said.

Hux turned towards Solo.

“That’s what you used to call me. Ren.”

Had they known each other before? Hux tried to recall and his mind came face to face with a blank wall.

“Ren.” Hux tried the name on his tongue.

The smirk faded.

“I missed you, Hux.”

Hux changed the subject before Solo could swallow him with that look.

“Any chance of getting us out of here, Ren?”

Solo rummaged under his chair and took out a black bag. He found a similar bag under Hux’s seat, which he thrust into to Hux’s hands. He pushed a button by the door. It hissed open and a blast of cool, fresh air greeted them.

Hux stopped and took in his surroundings. He had no recollection of ever being on a planet. The softness of dirt under his shoes, the fresh smell of air, the stark orange sky, the proud blue trees– he didn’t know there was so much life in the galaxy.

“She has no idea where we are.” Solo said, glancing upwards at the same area Hux was looking at.

“Good.” Hux said before socking Solo’s cheek with a right hook. Solo staggered backwards.

“Hux, what-?”

“First of all, _sir_ , you’re the worst pilot in the galaxy. Second, you knew me all along and you kept it from me?!” Hux snarled curses. Solo put up his guard – Hux threw his fist anyway. Solo sidestepped and he missed. When Hux moved to punch him again, Solo used his momentum against him. The world spun – and the forest ground met Hux’s skull. Solo’s weight on his chest kept him pinned down.

“You’re going to stop. You’re going to do as I say, because our lives depend on it. I’m not using the Force on you, but I will if I have to. Understand?”

Hux bared his teeth.

“Will you do as I say, Armitage?”

Hux remembered that Solo could massacre an army if he wished.

He gave a slight nod.

“Good.” Solo said.

Hux tried to control his ragged breathing. Why wasn’t Solo getting off of him? He seemed intent on studying Hux’s face.

Then Solo carded a gentle hand through Hux’s hair. Hux froze.

“There was a bug.” Solo looked away.

Hux let out a sigh as Solo’s heavy weight got off his chest.

“Why are we running away from your wonderful wife?”

“Must have been something I said.” Solo shrugged, a smirk tugged at his lips. He rummaged through his bag and took out a handheld computer. After a few fast taps and clicks, he pointed to his right.

“Map says there’s a neutral town that way. Three hours’ walk. Better get started.”

 

Hux had a lot of questions for Ben Solo, but the outside world made him feel like a child seeing the universe for the first time. He walked on solid ground. He breathed fresh air. He heard birds chirping at them, dead leaves crinkling under their shoes. He touched a tree trunk and rough bark crumbled in his hands. He looked at everything and absorbed its tiniest detail.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s all new, yet familiar.” Hux said. This could be memories of Hux-before-Fox, who might have scoffed at his wonder.

“Ren, was I important to you before?”

“Always. Even when you forgot about me. But you weren’t you anymore.”

“What kind of person was I?” Hux asked.

“You came, you saw, you obliterated.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“You had a stick up your ass.”

“Perhaps yours was stuck in further.”

Ren snorted.

A creature made a low, longing call for its mate.

“Did I have a family?”

“You were Father of the Order. We took in children the galaxy would never look for – street rats, orphans, prostitutes. We gave them food and family. You even convinced yourself it wasn’t out of kindness.”

“So you thought I was kind.”

“Not in the usual sense of the word. You’re not easy to describe.”

“Then why don’t you show me?”

Solo turned and reached out a hand, smiling. Hux did not recoil. He let Solo pull him close. Enveloped in his arms, Hux felt unconditional acceptance and warmth.

He raised his hands around Solo –

“Ben, what are you doing?”

They swung around. Rey stood in a ready stance. Green light from her saberstaff gleamed upon her cheek.

“Rey? How did you-? Without me knowing-?” Ben said.

“Uncle Luke taught me a thing or two about Force-cloaking.” Rey said. “You owe me an explanation, in detail.”

Ben stepped between Hux and Rey. He laid a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. Hux recognized his defensive stance – he used it once when pirates attacked the Falcon. No one could get past him.

“Rey, who he is somehow always comes back to him. He’s already figured out his name, and you know how it goes from there. You can see how much he hates living like this. What we’re doing to him has to stop.”

Rey glanced at Hux, then back to Solo again, “You’re still holding onto a memory, Ben. He’s not the Hux you once knew. It’s the life he chose for himself, the life we _promised_ we’d let him have. We fought tooth and nail for him. Everyone thinks we’re keeping him prisoner, and they have to keep thinking that. Do you really want to send him straight back to death row?”

Solo swung his arm as if striking down an invisible enemy.

“That won’t happen. I won’t let it.”

“You’re an idiot, Ben.”

“You married an idiot, Rey.”

“This is your fault. You just couldn’t stop yourself, could you? Even in his dreams.”

“My dreams?” Hux asked.

“Ben has been visiting you at night, Fox. At first, it’s to wipe the memories from coming back to you through your subconscious. Then he found other things to do inside your head.”

Hux had a sensation like missing a step on a staircase.

“I proposed to Rey that we could stop keeping you and just let you go. You’ve suffered enough.” Solo pleaded.

“I suppose I don’t get a say in what happens to my life at all?” Hux said, “Have either of you two, even once, considered asking me what I wanted?”

They stared in silence, as if only realizing he had been there.

“Well then. What do you want, Fox?” Rey said.

“Who Armitage Hux is.”

“You truly want to know?” Her slight smirk echoed Ben Solo’s, “You’ll find out how the First Order fell. You’ll know who Kylo Ren was and who Ben Solo truly is. Then you’ll wish you never knew.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Hux said.

Ben shook his head, “No. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You. Shut up. And stay away from me and my mind.”

Solo realized that Hux finally saw him for who he was – a monster.

“Well?” Hux said to Rey.

Rey lowered her saberstaff and walked towards Hux, straight past Solo without even looking at him. A power stronger than the Force rooted him to the spot.

“You might not like everything you remember. It’ll come in bits and pieces, only as much as your mind and body can take.”

“Hux, Rey, don’t.” Came a plea that went unheard.

Rey reached a hand up and touched Hux’s forehead, “On the count of three-”

Hux rolled his eyes, “Skip the counting.”

“Alright then. _Three_.”

 

He blinked awake and groaned. He had such a headache.

A woman sat before him, staring with curiosity, and a man leaned against the wall far behind her.

He asked them who they were, where he was, and how he got there. They were Rey and Ben Solo, this was the Millennium Falcon. They found him on a planet alone, they said, and did what they could to save him.

He tried to sit up. His hand rested on his thigh, and his fingertips traced the bumps of scars that felt like letters.

“Strange. I can’t remember who I am.” He said.

“Don’t worry.” The woman said, “It will come to you.”

The man gave him a pained expression, as if there was so much he could not tell him, “It always does."


End file.
